Your Empty Soulless Gaze Shall Forever Haunt Me
by SolitaryPerfectionist
Summary: In the aftermath of a battle, there are always those who seek comfort, however they can. Something Merlin shall soon discover. Oneshot.


It was done.

The fight for magic, the fight for freedom, was officially over.

Word got around quickly. There were feasts, festivities, and celebrations stretched across the vast lands. From Mercia to Essetir, all was well.

But not in Camelot. There were no feasts, there was no joy. There was despair, grief and loss. For more than just family, friends and loved ones. They grieved for their ruler. For their kind and noble king, Arthur.

The moment was forever engraved in Merlin's conscience. He would forever remember the cold, black blade that pierced through his master. He would forever remember cradling the body of his dying king. He would forever remember the last words whispered to him, as he failed his best friend. He would forever be haunted by the empty, expressionless face adorning the body of his brother in all but blood.

Months had past, and Merlin paced through the castle, a blank shell of his former self. The halls where he lived the best moments of his life. Saving a prince, hiding betrayers, fighting dragons.

The walls were tainted with memories of two young men, who traveled across kingdoms. Bringing hope by Camelot's mere mention.

Tainted by the pasts of two dead men. One resting in peace, the other wishing for it every second he spent alive.

"Merlin?" a voice called out.

It was Gwen. The sweet innocent maid, who became a queen and a widow, in a matter of seconds.

"My Lady," Merlin replied, bowing to her.

The action made the woman bristle.

"What is wrong with you Merlin?" she snapped. Here arms were folded over her chest, and she stared at him crossly.

"I'm fine My Lady." Merlin stated calmly. Because that was the truth. He was fine. Nothing mattered. If the world were to end the next day it wouldn't be soon enough. That, was Merlin's new meaning of fine. A mask of indifference so stone cold, it repelled everyone but the very closest of friends.

"No, no you are _not_. This isn't who you are Merlin. This is nothing like you were. You need to pick yourself up and _keep going_ Merlin." she chastised him.

It was the same thing every day. He'd somehow bump into the new Queen, and she'd emptily scold him. For, she too, felt as he did. Empty. Hollow. Grieving.

"Gwen?" the warlock called out gingerly. The woman in question looked at him in surprise.

"What is it?"

"Why don't you leave?

The question caught Gwen at a lost for words. She was unable to respond to him. She tried opening her mouth several times, but any words died in her throat, before being uttered.

"Exactly. Don't tell me that I need to move on." he coldly demanded. Realizing he had probably startled her, if the sudden jolt that ran through her body was anything to go by, he quickly amended his mistake.

"Go away Gwen. Spare yourself the pain. Leave this cursed place. Be free." he walked away, vaguely aware of his friend staring at his form sadly.

Even in his own grief, he still tried to help however he could.

Gwen took his advice. Within days, she had left the castle. Never to return.

And Merlin was all alone again. Just as he wanted.

* * *

Morgana sat on bench inside her hovel idly. The fight was over. Technically, she had just lost a battle. But to her, she lost so much more. She lost that which she didn't even know she had.

She lost her brother.

While he was alive, she never reflected on what he meant to her. He was just Arthur, the father's son through and through. She thought about Arthur, but she was to blinded by her resentment of Uther to see him. She thought of Uther, and failed to remember the times they shared as children. She thought of Uther, and forgot that Arthur truly cared for her.

She thought of Uther, and never realized how much Arthur meant to her.

She lost her best friend.

She thought about the woman, who spent her entire life catering to Morgana's every need. The thought of the woman who stood by her side and supported her through her greatest terrors and never asked a thing in return. She thought of the woman prized her friendship so much.

She thought of the woman whose happiness she had ruined.

She lost her own emotions.

She thought of every betrayal she had suffered. She had thought of every betrayal she had initiated. She thought of how much she had suffered. She though of how much, and how many she made suffer.

It was too much for her to handle.

She hated Mordred. For killing her brother.

She hated herself, for ruining so many lives.

She hated _Merlin_. Merlin, who besides her, shouldered all the blame.

She hated that burning in her chest , that told her everything was wrong.

* * *

The warlock had planned something different, aside from his usual, meaningless lingering.

He went into the kitchens and packed a bag. Bread, cheese, meats, grapes, he didn't know. He packed in whatever he could find.

The cook, Mary, looked at him sadly. Even though she used to loathe him and his never ending smiles. Out of pity, she let him whatever he wanted, and pretended not to notice.

In the courtyard, Merlin stood. Looking back at the castle he loved so much. It used to be a symbol of hope, for peasants. They'd stare at it's white bricks, and decide everything was going to be okay.

They were wrong.

He went to a place where he could have gone, long ago. To a place where he could have stopped the Battle of Camlann before it ever started.

He was going to the Darkling forests.

Out of what seemed to be sheer spite, the sun shone brilliantly in the afternoon. He grimaced, and trekked through the forests, until at last, he had found it. A small hovel, laying at the edge of the woods, located just before a pond.

He sat down at a tree before the entrance, and waited.

* * *

Morgana had been made a victim of a recurring dream, though it seemed more like a nightmare.

Beyond it, she could see nothing. Except Emrys, old and angry, standing at her doorstep. Like an angel of death.

That's when she heard someone, walking through _her_ forest.

To her surprise, it was Merlin, who came. But it didn't look like Merlin. She watched him curiously. He wasn't trying to kill her, or yell at her, or _anything_ at all. He just sat there.

"You can come out you know! Lunch is probably getting cold." he called out.

So that's what was in the bag.

Without reluctance, she was about to oblige. Then, something else caught her eye.

On a table next to her bed, there was a folded piece of cloth. It looked ordinary, or at least as ordinary as anything could be in her hovel.

She tugged the corner of the cloth, and revealed a fragment of a dagger. The same dagger that Arthur had gifted to her. The man who she had sentenced to death. A shadow of doubt crossed her mind, but she banished it as quickly as possible. She had other things to do.

The knife took to the air, by her command.

Today, she swore, she would exact her revenge. It ended today.

An ending that she had craved for so long.

The broken blade flew back to her hand. She folded it in a cloth neatly, and tucked it into the back of her dress.

* * *

Finally, the door had opened.

Out stepped the same, pale, raven haired woman that he had spent so long trying to kill and avoid being killed by. Her beauty was radiant, in a terrifying way.

"Afternoon milady." he greeted, barely looking up from the bag, of which he began extracting the contents.

"Are you planning on poisoning me _again,_ Merlin?" she inquired. She made sure to wear her proudest, darkest, most prominent smirk as she knew they drove him insane.

"No, not really. I felt I may stop by and meet an old friend." he patted the grass next to himself.

Morgana had to credit him, he did know how to pick a decent spot. She often leaned against the large walnut tree, and gazed at dying sunlight.

"Are we pretending to live in the old days, where you're a simple servant and I'm the king's beloved ward?" she asked. It was surprisingly sincere, and a fair question.

"If you like, milady. I am at your service."

She sat next to him, and merely observed the man. She popped a grape into her mouth, as she stared at the side of his head.

She didn't feel bitter, angry, or even sad. She was an empty container and she came to the realization that so was he.

His dazzling blue eyes had dulled considerably. He no longer carried himself with the cheerful, clumsy stride that put a smile on any person's face.

"Very well, Merlin." she said , tearing off a piece of bread.

"I'd imagine we have much to catch up on. It's been long since you were home." he told her with such nonchalance, she nearly laughed.

"Yes, I suppose I been living away for quite a while." she didn't know where Merlin was heading with this, but she decided, for now, she would humor him.

They ate and told stories, jokes, and a few crazy thoughts, for good measure.

Times when Arthur still road with his knights, and his manservant who kept him alive was still at his side.

The times when Morgana admired the courage and willpower of Camelot.

They spoke of festivals, and the rare stabs of happiness that either had found.

She had brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Her head staring at the clouds passing them by.

Maybe, if destiny had been kinder to them, she could get used to this.

Sighing, she rested her head on Merlin's shoulder, feeling content when he rested his head upon her in return.

Morgana fidgeted with the broken knife she held in her hand hidden from Merlin. She considered it. Just slitting his throat, or stabbing him. Watching him bleed out at her feet. But she couldn't.

"You know what could make this better?" she asked, a teasing glint in her eye.

He looked at her puzzled. A look she often found herself cherishing.

She brought the hand that held the blade to his wrist, having not the heart nor the appetite to stab him. She settled for discreetly pricked his skin. A droplet of blood rolled down one side of the blade, which her reflection smiled at.

"Nothing." she smiled.

He brought his hand up in surprise. He glanced at it curiously, before paying it no mind.

"Hm. Must have been bitten by a bug." She bit back a relieved sigh.

It was a matter of time before the orange sunlight filled the forest.

They were both so, so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of losing.

Their respective destinies battering them down year by year. Wearing them down. Reducing them to emotionless husks.

The looked at each other, a sad, tired smile wiped across the face.

Morgana's eyes were cold. So cold.

Merlin, who had managed to stay so bright, for so long, was forced into submission.

They pondered for a while, before the warlock broke the silence.

" _Blostma."_ he uttered the word and a vibrant, red rose had appeared in his hand.

Merlin placed the flower behind Morgana's ear. Closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder once more. Perfectly content with staring at the last of daylight fade.

"I'm dying." he stated. Morgana looked at him strangely. He looked serene, if possible more relaxed at knowledge of his death. He would have laughed, if he could. For what seemed to be his entire life, he was dedicated to outsmarting, tricking, and avoiding death. But now that he saw it before him, in all it's cold beautiful glory...

He embraced it,

"Yes, yes I suppose you are," she threw down the dagger fragment. It now sported an identical trail of blood, on opposing sides. "and I suppose, so am I." she extended her legs, and took to curling up to Merlin's side, which he welcomed.

"You poisoned me." He shot her a remorseful smile. It wasn't an accusation. It was a statement.

"I did. And now we're both going to be dead." she smiled sweetly. It was sincere in a bitter way.

Neither said anything else, preferring to listen to winds rustling trees.

"When Arthur-...when Arthur died." she choked on her words briefly "Was it quick? Was it painless?" she did her best to remain stoic, but it was obvious she was hurt.

Merlin grimaced. Nonetheless, he decided if they were going to die side by side, he'd much rather die an honest man.

"No, Morgana, I'm afraid it was neither." he pulled her into his dying arms. He tried his best to give her a comfort he did not have. He snorted, while Morgana looked at him quizzically.

"Before he...died. He asked that I held him." a tear rolled down his face. "His name is engraved in history. Perhaps...perhaps this is what destiny always meant for us."

And for the first time in what seemed to be an eternity, Morgana felt remorse. She burned with shame. She killed her own brother. The boy with blonde hair who used to sneak into the kitchens and steal cakes when she was sad. The same boy who had promised to always be with her. The man who sought to protect her.

He felt his legs give out.

He clutched the woman who was now lying on his chest tighter.

She strengthened her grip around his neck, burying her face into her shoulder.

They both clung to each others embrace as it were the only thing that mattered. And really, it was.

Her throat was starting to constrict.

She leaned back, and stared into his dull blue eyes. With not hesitation, she pressed her lips against the the warlock's.

He kissed her back, focusing whatever strength he had into the gesture.

They had craved each other for so long, and now they were finally whole.

"Merlin." her voice was raspy. "I..forgive you." Morgana declared in a whisper, as she slowly asphyxiated.

Merlin smiled as best he could.

"As do I...My lady." he replied through stifled breaths.

He smiled, because it was all over. He smiled, because in her last moments, he caught a glimpse of the real Morgana. Vibrant, passionate, kind, and full of forgiveness. The scared girl who hated not helping. The Morgana he had once fallen in love with.

She smiled, because it was all over. She smiled because in her last moments, she didn't die with Emrys, her doom. She didn't die with Arthur's manservant, her enemy. She died with Merlin. The serving boy with big ears who stumbled over his feet. The Merlin she had given her heart to.

A few hard, labored breathes later and Emrys and Le Fey were no more.

Two figures intertwined, dying with smiles on their faces.

The orange light died, leaving the couple to their eternal slumber.

* * *

 **I had to get this off my chest. Please drop a review, tell me how I did! Ooh, constructive criticism is super helpful!**


End file.
